


Long Distance

by drinkginandkerosene



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Hallucinations, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkginandkerosene/pseuds/drinkginandkerosene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal doesn't like spelling things out for people, and luckily Will is extremely good at reading between the lines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

It wasn't uncommon for Will to be called further afield to investigate particularly heinous crimes, indeed, it was getting more and more frequent. What was rare, however, was for him to care about it. In the past, it was only his dogs he left behind (his next door neighbor was very accommodating), but now he had a therapist. He wondered vaguely if he was pining for Dr. Lecter the same way his dogs must pine for him.

And that wasn't the only new thing about this entire... Set-up they seemed to have going.

Will was never a particularly sexual person, taking little interest in the messy business in high school and college, and from then on the opportunity arising rarely. He barely noticed the lack of sexual contact in his life, and even if he had, it was doubtful he would have minded. People were complicated, often cruel, usually uninteresting, and he had no desire to copulate with them.

That was, of course, until he had met Hannibal.

Now sometimes, lying in bed in the small hours, a craving awoke in him, like an animal intent on ripping out tender throats, a need to be claimed and claim, be used and abused and brutalised. It turned out, luckily for Will's peace of mind and focus, that Hannibal was more than accommodating. It was a whole new world for Will, one explored together with methodical thoroughness, leaving no kink unexplored, no idea left behind. They'd found out a lot about Will's sexuality, finding that a loss of control was all that was needed to make him drip with want and need, and they found that a way to make him come rather suddenly was forcing eye contact. The past few weeks had been exhilarating. 

And now he was stuck in this hotel room, alone, with that animal inside scratching at the inside of his ribs, wanting so much more than it was likely to get here. 

He had been pacing around the small room for what had seemed like hours, though in reality it was probably minutes. It was too early to sleep, and he had trouble nodding off at the best of times, let alone when constant images of dead children flickered through his mind like some sort of horror show. Another result of their experimentation had found that Will drifted off easily after sex. He groaned in sheer annoyance, pausing before the double bed and falling back onto it. 

He decided to cave. It was pathetic but he still found himself reaching for his phone, and calling his psychiatrist. 

"Good evening Will." Hannibal didn't sound surprised to hear from the empath, and Will supposed he probably knew he'd end up calling. 

"Hello." There was a slight pause where Will could hear him shifting, like he was sitting down. Will could just see him hitching up those expensive suit trousers with careful fingers, leaning back so the fabric across his shoulders pulled taunt. Will licked his lips slowly, feeling the craving increase. 

"Did you call for anything in particular Will?" Could Will detect the hint of a tease in the other's voice? He knew how uncomfortable Will got asking for personal things such as this, and usually took great delight in making him ask, or worse, beg. Beg for the good doctor's cock in his mouth, beg to be fucked harder, beg for something as simple as a hand tangled in his hair. Will found it was a great emotional release, and Hannibal... Well, he just seemed to enjoy having Will like that.

"I... I wish you were here. With me." Technically true but still dancing around the subject. He heard an intake of breath, exhaled in a chuckle. Will frowned in discomfort.

"Come now Will, don't be so coy. Say what you mean."

"I want, I mean, I need... I'm aroused and I wish you were here so you could help relieve that." The words tumbled out of him all in a rush, and he breathed a sigh of relief he'd managed to get them out with a minimum of embarrassment. 

"I don't need to be there Will. Just follow my directions, as usual. I'd be glad to help." Well. That had actually went much better than expected. "First, are you naked?"

"No."

"Strip your jeans and boxers off, leave the shirt." Will cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he kicked off the jeans with more than a little difficulty, deciding after a moment to strip off his socks too, discarding the clothing onto the floor. 

"What now?" He settled back, feeling oddly selfconcious though nobody was in the empty room but himself. He spread his legs, letting his knees fall apart.

"Do you have anything that passes as lubrication?" Will rather unceremoniously bent over the bed to fetch the edge of his bag, dragging it over to rifle through it. He was in luck, barely, a few satchets of tester lube littering the bottom of his overnight bag. "Got it? Good. Now, slick your hand up, nice and wet, like I do with mine before I push them inside you." His voice was like silk and it made Will's voice hitch as he spread the thick liquid across his fingers, making sure not to miss a single spot. He tended to be tight, so you really couldn't skimp on the amount of lubrication he needed. Then came the command he'd been wanting the most. "Touch yourself."

Will obeyed, of course he did, but he took his time. With the phone pinned between his shoulder and ear, he could use his dry hand to run fingers over the bruises that still lingered on his hips like blessings, and when he pressed into them, sung like hymns. He ran them up his thigh, exhaling shakily, liking to take his time, explore his body properly. He had never really fully appreciated exactly what his body could make him feel, how the simplest touch of his own hand could make his nerves feel like they're on fire. Finally, he grasped himself, fully hard now, burning heat below the slick of his palm. He must have hissed, or moaned, not that he was aware, because Hannibal made a soft, unreadable noise as Will slid his hand down to the base with the least pressure possible. He ran it back up carefully, thumb brushing over the already leaking head, spreading the precome carefully. 

"What would you do if you were here Hannibal?"

Another chuckle, low and dangerous in his ear. "Oh my dear Will, I think you know that. Think of it as a /design/." 

And suddenly, it was like Hannibal was there, standing at the side of the bed, that impeccable suit, that smile on his face that implied he knew more about you than you ever could. He would kneel, one knee between Will's spread ones. He would lean forward, pressing an almost chaste kiss to the side of Will's red mouth, red from worrying at it with his teeth, coloured with his blood. He would grip Will's throat tight, and now he thought about it, he could almost feel the bruises forming in the shape of fingers, and as Will's vision blurred, he moved his hand faster, just from imagining the divine pressure that would be present, choking the breath from him. He squeezed a little harder, twisting his hand and the tip, not filled with insecurity anymore as he moaned (as Hannibal would describe it later), like a wanton whore. He bucked his hips into his hand, clenching his jaw tight as every muscle within his body ached and tightened to an almost painful extent. He realised, dimly, through the haze of visions and pleasure, he was whimpering brokenly into the phone, and Hannibal was encouraging him.

"A little more, a little harder, be a good boy Will-" And with that, he came, spilling hot come over his hand, still whimpering. He had painted his shirt and his hand with the streaks, and he wiped it off on the fabric, blinking as the vision and feeling of Hannibal left him, and instead he focused on the voice. "Why don't you sleep Will?"

"I will. Thank you Doctor.." He hung up, switching the light off, and ignoring the silhouette of the deer that passed through the room. Sleep came easily for once. He was eternally grateful.


End file.
